


Dance Again

by haganenoheichou



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Flash Fiction, Insightful Conversation, Lancelot - Freeform, M/M, loss of limb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 14:24:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14813067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haganenoheichou/pseuds/haganenoheichou
Summary: Lance loses a leg in combat. Lotor doesn't let go of his hand. Written for theLance Flash Bang.Artfor this fic by the lovelySkriy.





	Dance Again

Crash-landing on an alien planet was a terrible idea – even though at the time, when they were both screaming their heads off, praying not to die, it had been a completely viable option.

Trapped beneath the wreckage of an enemy ship, they snarled at each other and promised revenge for something neither of them did.

When the castle came to pick them up, neither said a word to the other. It took the entire team to extract them from beneath the twisted metal and boiled glass. They had to be carried back to the castle.

When Lance woke up, he knew he was alone. He couldn’t hear the steady hum of lion energy at the back of his mind. He turned his head to see where he was – the healing pod room, but he was lying down.

“You’re up.”

He turned his head to see a familiar head of white, long hair.

“Not really,” he mumbled.

Lotor gave him a pitying look and he didn’t know why. Lance’s hackles rose and he attempted his best cocky glare. “You’re here too.”

The Galra gestured to the very unpleasant bruising all around his left shoulder. “The pod can only do so much. It’s not quite yet tailored to Galra physiology, I’m afraid.”

“But it’s supposed to be able to fix humans, right? Then why am I here?”

Lotor’s pitying eyes slid downward and Lance’s gaze followed. For a moment, the world froze, and all Lance could hear was the whoosh of his own blood in his ears.

And then the world restarted.

“It’s not the worst thing that could have happened, I suppose,” Lotor drawled and Lance was suddenly torn between clocking him in the face and slamming his own against the Galra Emperor’s chest and crying, crying, crying.

“My people are already working on a fix for you.” Lotor’s voice was strangely soothing – subdued even; Lance wondered whether it was for his benefit or not. Their relationship had always been tumultuous at best – first as rivals for Allura’s heart, then as comrades-in-arms, and then, after a particularly long night of pouring over galaxy maps and strategy, as fuck buddies.

“A fix?” A laugh bubbled up in his chest and for some reason, the situation suddenly turned so, so hilarious that he heaved and heaved and laughed and laughed until nothing else would come – nothing but silence and tears rolling down is cheeks.

“A fix,” Lotor repeated. His clawed hand crept closer to Lance’s hand which lay innocently on top of the covers. He didn’t move it away when he felt fingers twine with his own. “I know it won’t bring back what you had, however, the Druids–,”

“They’re gonna make me like Shiro,” Lance finished for him. He tried to picture his leg, metal. Knee, whirring. “Maybe they can make it so that I shoot lasers out of my big toe.”

“At least your sense of humor has not been lost,” Lotor commented, and Lance found himself weirdly offended by the statement.

“Aren’t you supposed to be all comforting and loving and shit right now? I’m missing my right leg,” he said tersely. It was surprising how easily the words came now that they had been said before in his mind.

It didn’t help that his tight foot was itching like a bitch.

“Whatever for?” Lotor questioned. “I am not a healer nor your lover.”

Their eyes met for a moment and Lance sighed, settling back against the pillow. “I suppose not.”

Lotor cocked his head a little. “Don’t tell me you have developed affection for me, earthling.”

Lance snorted in response. “Don’t you think this conversation could take place at a different time? When I’m not in the process of getting over the fact that I _don’t have a leg_?”

Lotor shrugged. “Now’s a time as good as any.”

Lance rolled his eyes. The Galra certainly had a different definition of tact. Or none at all, he couldn’t really tell. Suave as he was, Lotor was also quite callous when it came to empathy.

Which made it weird that he felt closer than ever to him.

“I guess I’ll just have to wait until your underlings bring me my new leg. It better be good at dancing,” he replied. His thumb began to trace invisible patterns on Lotor’s hand.

“Dancing?” Lotor questioned. “That’s quite a tall order.”

Lance frowned and squeezed his hand. “Make it happen. You’re their Emperor.”

The Galra gave him a small smile in return.

“I will do my best,” he said. He picked Lance’s hand up and gently brought it to his lips.

Heat flooded Lance’s cheeks. “What are you…?” He glanced at the Galra with a frown. “If this is some sort of pity party for my sake, I don’t want it.”

Lotor shook his head. “I don’t think I could ever pity you, Red Paladin.”

“Blue,” Lance corrected automatically. “I still… I’m the Blue Paladin.”

A smile curved Lotor’s lips. “Blue it is.”

Lance sighed, pulling his hand away. “Might not be a Paladin, after this,” he said, pointing to the empty space beneath his mid-thigh.

“I already told you, Lance,” Lotor said, drawing his attention with the use of his first name. Even when they got together during their _trysts,_ as Lotor called them oh-so-tactfully, he never used his name. He would say things like _darling_ , and _beautiful_ , and things that perhaps would only make sense to the Galra. Words that made Lance feel warm inside but also somewhat empty, reminding him that what they had was temporary at best.

“My people will do their best to make sure your career as the Voltron Sharpshooter continues for many quintants,” Lotor said, his voice serious.

“So I’m just supposed to have faith in your and your mad scientists is what you’re saying,” Lance said uncomfortably.

“My scientists are perfectly sane, thank you very much,” Lotor said tersely. “The mad ones are back with the witch.”

“Right.” Lance sighed deeply.

It was weird, thinking about Lotor as the only person who could potentially put him back on his feet – quite literally. Lance wasn’t sure he was comfortable with the idea.

“You don’t trust me.”

There was a pause.

“I don’t trust myself.”

“Whyever not?”

“Because the more hope I put into something, the more it hurts when I’m disappointed.”

“You think I won’t deliver.”

“I don’t know that you will.”

They glared at each other for a long moment before Lotor sighed, leaning back against his pillow. “It would be a shame not to see you flounce around.”

Lance scoffed. “I don’t _flounce_!”

“I am quite sure that what you do can only be called that,” the Galra Emperor replied.

Lance tossed his pillow at his head, hitting him square in his stupid handsome face.

“I. Don’t. Flounce,” he said when Lotor grabbed the pillow and hugged it to his chest – uncharacteristically so.

“Then perhaps you should try your new leg on, once it’s manufactured, and prove me wrong.”

He stared at Lotor whose face was beginning to show a very shit-eating grin.

“You’re unbelievable,” he said finally, but he couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips.

“And you are incredible.”

Lotor tossed the pillow back and then grabbed Lance’s hand before he could pull it away.

“You are incredible, Lance,” he repeated, his violet eyes strangely grave.

“Uh, sure.” Lance tried to shift his gaze away.

“One day, once you’re all fixed up, I will take you to the stars. I will give you the universe. I will show you how incredible you are.”

“I don’t need you to save me,” Lance said stubbornly.

“I know,” Lotor replied. He made to pull his hand back, but Lance’s long fingers suddenly twined with his own.

“Who said you could let go?”

He danced.


End file.
